There's something almost mythical about an 11-year-old becoming a millionaire through sheer faith and stubborn determination. Yet here we are in 2025, finally getting the story of Sarah Rector—a name that should be etched alongside American legends but somehow got buried under decades of selective historical amnesia. Amazon MGM's Sarah's Oil, hitting theaters November 7th, feels like both a long-overdue correction and a perfectly timed reminder that the most extraordinary stories often belong to the people history tried hardest to ignore.
The trailer alone carries weight that most biopics spend two hours trying to achieve. Naya Desir-Johnson, who brought such raw intensity to A Thousand and One, embodies young Sarah with a quiet fire that immediately signals we're in capable hands. When she declares “there is oil beneath the barren land,” you believe her—not because the script demands it, but because Desir-Johnson makes faith feel tangible, urgent, almost rebellious.
Director Cyrus Nowrasteh has spent his career navigating stories that mainstream Hollywood typically sidesteps. His previous work on The Stoning of Soraya M and Infidel proved he's unafraid of difficult truths, and Sarah's Oil appears to continue that tradition. Here's a filmmaker who understands that the most powerful historical narratives aren't just about what happened—they're about what we chose to remember, and what we didn't.
The story itself reads like something pulled from an alternate history novel. Sarah Rector, born in Oklahoma Indian Territory in the early 1900s, was allotted what everyone assumed was worthless land. Everyone except Sarah, whose intuition about oil beneath the surface would transform her into one of America's first female African American millionaires. At eleven years old. In 1907. Try wrapping your head around that timeline while considering the social and economic barriers she faced.
What strikes me about the trailer is how it frames Sarah's journey not as a feel-good underdog story, but as a battle for agency. “We're dealing with some mighty devious folks over here,” warns one character, and the threat feels real, immediate. This isn't Disney's version of American entrepreneurship—it's grittier, more complex, acknowledging that Sarah's success came despite systems designed to prevent it.
The supporting cast brings serious credibility. Sonequa Martin-Green, fresh off her commanding Star Trek: Discovery run, appears as a fierce maternal figure. Garret Dillahunt continues his streak of playing men whose morality exists in shades of gray. And yes, Zachary Levi is here too, both starring and producing—make of that what you will in our current cultural moment.
The film draws from Tonya Bolden's book “Searching for Sarah Rector: The Richest Black Girl in America,” suggesting the source material comes with both historical rigor and narrative drive. Bolden's research apparently uncovered details that even historians had overlooked, which explains why Sarah's story feels simultaneously familiar and shocking.
Nowrasteh and his co-writer wife Betsy Giffen Nowrasteh have crafted what the marketing describes as “more than a good story: it's a family, a faith, a legacy.” That could easily sound like empty uplift, but the trailer suggests something more complicated—a meditation on what it means to fight for what's yours when the entire system assumes you don't deserve it.
The November 7th, 2025 release date feels strategically chosen. Awards season positioning? Possibly. But more likely, it's counter-programming against whatever superhero spectacle dominates the box office that weekend. Sometimes the most radical act is simply telling a story that hasn't been told.
Sarah's Oil could easily have been reduced to inspirational messaging or historical checkbox-checking. Instead, it appears to be something more essential: a reminder that American mythology has always been selective about its heroes. Sarah Rector deserved better than being forgotten. Maybe now she'll finally get it.
What Makes Sarah's Story Essential Now
The Timing Isn't Accidental
Releasing during awards season suggests Amazon MGM believes this story has cultural staying power beyond a single viewing.
Young Female Leads Are Having a Moment
Following A Thousand and One, Desir-Johnson continues Hollywood's welcome trend of trusting young Black actresses with substantial dramatic weight.
Historical Biopics Are Getting Grittier
Gone are the sanitized inspirational tales—modern audiences want complexity, even from stories about children.
Faith-Based Films Are Evolving
The religious elements here feel integrated into character development rather than imposed from above.
November Could Be This Film's Sweet Spot
Counter-programming against blockbusters while positioning for awards consideration—if the execution matches the ambition.
